


if not for me then you'd be dead

by DearIcarus



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, mcu - Freeform, young au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearIcarus/pseuds/DearIcarus
Summary: Different spin on Afghanistan, where Nate Summers was part of the unit keeping Tony safe.





	if not for me then you'd be dead

**Author's Note:**

> Song title : lyric from 'Kryptonite' by Three Doors Down.

He'd been convinced he was doing the right thing by taking that job. 

A seventeen year old kid traveling to Afghanistan on a business trip?  
Sounded easy. 

The guy was a millionaire, or billionaire, who fucking knew, and Nate had been expecting a fast-lane twerp looking for "exotic bitches and native riches." Clearly he hadn't been the only one surprised when out of a private jet came a lawyer-looking motherfucker, complete with briefcase and sunglasses. Except in miniature. 

Both men and women had stared but neither had said a word. They were a private detail. They weren't paid to share their opinions. Except eventually, the kid gets them talking. All throughout the selfie sessions and music playing, Nate can't shake the feeling of dread crawling up his ass.

___________

Driving at night had its perks.  
Steady quiet, sharper focus for those on watch, and the occasional dreamless doze.

At least it would've if the damn kid hadn't had insomnia. Already he's tried a few times to get Nate to talk to no avail. One of the soldiers, who'd taken a particular liking to the teenager, has tried to dissuade him (for which Nate is silently grateful) but clearly the Stark bloodline ran strong in him because he 's built like a damn stubborn mule. Eventually the kid wins himself a stern "Go the fuck to sleep" from the soldier and that's that. 

__________

Nate hadn't wanted to be right. 

Usually it meant someone getting hurt and for all that was written about Tony Stark, the child prodigy, the only thing that'd really stuck had been the fact he was just a kid. Same age as Jean, probably... 

The thing was, Nate had also been just a kid when he'd decided to enlist. A mix between blind faith in a nation that'd been merciful to him (giving him a home, eventually, in the Xavier House) and a desire to make something of himself. To have the people who looked up to him proud to call him family.

In the end, it wasn't experience that mattered. 

It was choice. 

He'd chosen to scar himself with war. 

Tony Stark had had that choice ripped from him and all Nate could do was watch, past the veil of blood falling into his eyes, as he was dragged away. 

Everyone was gone...

He hadn't wanted to be right. 

__________

He isn't spared, and his guilty conscience is glad for it. 

They torture him, and he thinks he hears the faint echoes of a unique scream as they're dunking him in sludge. Not quite feminine but not entirely grown either. 

He isn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Maybe dead, the kid wouldn't have had to suffer much. 

Nate's honestly surprised at how long it takes them to switch to more...extreme methods. As if they hadn't exactly meant to find him alive. Even their questions are starting to make less sense, though maybe it's the imminent hypoxia.

Eventually, the unique screaming stops. Nate almost misses it. At least then he wouldn't be alone. Shit, why the fuck would they want his eye? Damn. Shit. Fuck. 

I hope you're dead kid. And if not, sorry for being a lousy guardian angel. 

....

I'll get you home. Even if you're not breathing, I'll get you home.  
You're someone's son. 

__________

They've forgotten him. 

Probably.

Most likely. 

That or they're hoping the fever takes him. But he still has a job to do. 

He's learned their routine, knows where they keep their guns. But there's too many...and his world has been cut in half now. He'd need to deal with that...somehow...

__________

Something is happening. They're agitated. 

Something is wrong. 

Or right. 

Nate gets himself to his feet, the world spins, but he plants his feet and forces his body to move. He won't get a chance like this again. A distraction.

Except, he still can't remember what exactly it was that happened first. All he knows is he'd heard talk of a weapon, and then apparently that same weapon had gone off in the middle of their damn base. And that was either the dumbest move they could've done, or it hadn't been their move at all. 

He fights as many as he can, mows down the ones he can see with an abandoned gun.

Imagines he hears that voice. 

But the rest is a blur....

__________

Nate wakes up in the air. The smell of gunpowder has him wide awake, but his commanding officer greets him. Stryker. He smiles down at Nate, something bitter but meant to be comforting. 

"Where's the kid?" are the first words out of his mouth. Hoarse, but audible. 

Stryker's smile falls into that familiar frown. Nate prefers the frown.

"What kid?"

"Tony Stark."

It's the first time he's spoken his name aloud.

"He's dead." 

There's no remorse in the man's eyes. No guilt. No sympathy. 

"Turn around."

"You blew up the base and you wanna go back? Why?" 

Stryker sounds incredulous and looks to those around him for support. He's wearing that damn smile again. Nate doesn't hesitate in clamping down on the Commander's neck with a weak but unrelenting grip. The soldiers around him tense and lean in but Stryker stops them with an open palm. Settles a critical gaze on him, as if checking to see whether he's sane. 

"Explain."

"I didn't do it. I'm missing an eye and my arm is practically gone. How would I detonate, much less build the damn bomb?" 

"Im sure you are underestimating yourself-"

"Go back."

"We can't."

"You can. You will."

Stryker must see something in his eyes because he's taking a moment to think before motioning for the chopper to turn around.

Nate stays awake long enough to see that speck of life amid the sand. 

It's waving at them.

Some part of Nate, a long-dead part of him, wants to smile and wave back.


End file.
